


Walking Away

by Wr1t3myWr0ngs



Series: Remembering Yesterday's Tomorrow (In the Here and Now) [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Bittersweet, F/M, Force Shenanigans, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wr1t3myWr0ngs/pseuds/Wr1t3myWr0ngs
Summary: Everyone has to make a choice; some are easy, some not, and others...well... others need a little more faith.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano, Morai & Ahsoka Tano
Series: Remembering Yesterday's Tomorrow (In the Here and Now) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824871
Comments: 12
Kudos: 115





	Walking Away

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I'm a liar. That little sneak peek I gave you last fic actually fits better in part 4 (which is the Umbara arc, and I am super excited about it!!!) then it does in this part of the story.  
> Sorry for the bait and switch, it wasn't intentional. Sometimes, you plan something out one way, and then your writing says, "Nah fam, " and does what it wants.  
> This was one of those times.  
> Good news though! Part 4 will start going up tomorrow, so I'm not making you wait too much longer for what I said I would give you.
> 
> Request!  
> I'm not actually happy with the title of this fic, but since my alternate titles were "Into the Unknown" and "Let's Do the Time Warp" (the first was a little too Disney Frozen, the second brought to mind Tim Curry in fishnets, both got the songs horribly stuck in my head) I didn't have a better title. If you have any ideas, I would love to hear them.

Rex's funeral is a small affair. Although there was no shortage of well wishers who sent their condolences from across the galaxy, when the day arrived, it was only a small group that attended. The crew of The Ghost ~~as many as possible~~ came, as did a few others from the Rebellion. Perhaps most surprising was Mon, who Ahsoka knows has other responsibilities, better places to be.

Their eyes meet at one point during the service, and the Jedi-not-Jedi understands that this is just as personal for the old senator as it is for her, a goodbye to both a friend and a soldier. One of the last of his kind.

One of a kind. Sure, loyal, brave.

He had been a mentor first, younger then her but already well versed in tactics and loss. Her subordinate, yes, but one she leaned heavily on, and learned as much from as she did her Master.

In stolen moments (and all moments were stolen during the war), their relationship had changed, opened up—equals in spirit, if not in rank. Friends, as best as they could be given their circumstances.

Somewhere between him being _Captain_ and becoming _Rex_ Ahsoka had become attached. Hadn't realized how attached until she left the Order. Found herself thinking, not just about her men and her former Master, but him. His not quite a smile. Found herself wondering what he would say about her life in the lower levels.

And then she had run into the Martez sisters, and she missed him then too. More so in battle than at any other time, like fighting with a saber that wasn't her own; doable, but different.

And then she was back, chasing down the lead on Darth Maul, and there was no time for an emotional reunion between her and her Master (It's a regret that she knows she will take with her to her grave, that she didn't hug him when she had the chance, let him know that she cared) but somehow Anakin had made the time.

Made time to give her her sabers, to let the men surprise her. 

Seeing the doors open, hearing his voice, her heart — she was sure— had stopped for just a moment.

It wasn't love, not then. But it was comfortable and familiar and felt like completion even though she was already whole. It could have become something, she thinks, if it hadn't been cut so short. If the chips hadn't been activated and the Galaxy hadn't been overthrown.

If, if, if.

They went their separate ways. She still thought about him, wanted his input, his perspective on the rebellion, the state of the galaxy. Not always, not all the time. But in quiet moments, he would come to mind. ~~She wondered if he thought about her too.~~

She did her best to keep tabs on him, make sure he was alright. Heard a rumor that he had found some of his brothers, lost track of him again (tried to make contact, never succeeded).

All the while the Rebellion was struggling, lead by Senators that had never truly fought and by people that had been children when the war broke out—spirited, yes, but limited in experience.

She thought of him. Knew when she asked Kanan to trust her friend that she was asking more then she had any right to (not after what he had been through), knew that Rex was what they needed. Hoped he would say yes.

Her heart had beat rapidly as she waited for the Ghost crew to arrive, made her face unreadable, prepared herself for disappointment of not seeing him.

Then Zeb had smiled, and her heart raced faster, could hear the pounding in her montrals as he walked up, purposeful, and came to parade rest.

It was a shock, certainly, because somehow it never occurred to her that he had aged too. That he had changed. But there was no doubt that it was him, and it was his voice, just like she remembered, the same warmth in that smile that made her heart go still.

There were a hundred things she wanted to say, thoughts that flew around her mind faster then she could keep up with and all so important. There weren't words for some of them, but she had always been an action first sort, and as she threw her arms around his neck, she knew.

Despite the years, he would always feel like coming home.

Isn't sure where home is now that he's gone.

Part of her had wanted to turn him over to the pyre, thinks that deep inside it would always feel like the only proper way to return someone to the force, (some of the teachings from her childhood, she found, were impossible to shake. Even with her self imposed distance from the Jedi).

But Rex had asked to be put to ground, the same as his brothers and she would not deny him this. 

She feels terribly small, looking at the mound of dirt, a simple marker holding his helmet (white flashes in her mind's eye, row upon row of graves, good men forever hidden under snow, lightsabers at her feet).

No one tries to convince her to come inside, and for that, she is thankful, letting her mourn in private for a while longer. Is surprised when no one comes for her even as night falls, the blackest she has ever known. 

Starless.

Empty.

The grave the only thing she can see.

_Not right._

The force eddies around her, swirls and hums, and she wishes that she had her sabers for nothing more than the comfort of them in her hands.

She spins around, desperate to find something, anything in the all-encompassing blackness.

Nothing.

Not the Biituian trees, or the silhouette of the farmhouse. Not the sound of the wind or rustling of leaves. Only the grave to her back and the sound of her breath.

She should move, explore, see how vast the darkness is, but her feet refuse to yield. Whether because of this strange place or her own unwillingness, Ahsoka does not know. Perhaps, in this odd plane of reality, they are the same thing.

The force catches, holding its breath, for what is uncertain, but it builds, and it builds, and it builds until she thinks she could go insane.

Soft hooting draws her attention, the first sound not made by herself in however long it has been, and the tension breaks. The eddies in the force pulling her around to face the grave.

There, sitting atop Rex's helmet, is Morai, lightsabers clutched in their prehensile tail, glowing green and gold.

The convor looks at her, tilts their head and blinks once, before letting out an inquisitive chirp.

Ahsoka blinks back, not sure what her old friend could mean this time, but she holds out her arm in invitation regardless.

Morai spreads their wings and shoots past, dropping the lightsabers at the togrutans feet, but doesn't go far. Instead hovering in the air, head cocked to one side, waiting.

Dropping her arm, Ahsoka looks from her sabers, to the grave, to the bird and back again.

Her heart still aches, will continue to ache whatever her decision. She looks again at the convor who hoots in question, glowing brightly against the black and makes up her mind. Morai seems to understand and settles on some unseen surface.

She takes a moment to rest her hand on the helmet, lets herself feel one last pang of loss and sorrow before collecting her sabers and turns her back on the grave, setting out into the abyss, Morai as her guide.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is still being written entirely on my phone, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know!


End file.
